Thank You, Purple

After several days of refusing to wear anything that isn’t purple, it’s become increasingly apparent that Savannah has discovered her first favorite color. This morning, after declining one green hair bow after another, I finally pulled out a purple one and stuck it in her hair. Satisfied, she smiled, kicked her feet in honest delight and blissfully replied, “Thank you, purple!”

I leaned forward, humbled by her authentic appreciation for something so simple, and kissed the top of her head. Yes, thank you, purple, for just being you. For bringing joy to people because you’re pretty and girly and, according to Savannah, the most perfect color out of all the colors. Thank you, purple, for existing.

On a regular basis I mistake privileges for rights; I think I deserve things that aren’t really mine. I deserve a good job, a loving family, a warm home. I deserve to watch my daughter grow, to feel her sibling dance in my belly. I deserve the color purple.

But I don’t. Not really. These are gifts, not entitlements. No one owes me anything. How much more enjoyable my life would be if I could consistently recognize these gifts the way children do. Maybe I too would squeal in excitement at the sight of sidewalk chalk or laugh uncontrollably at the sound of daddy’s monster voice.

Tonight as we change Savannah into her pajamas she takes a moment to stare earnestly at her fingers. When I ask her how many hands she has, she thinks for a moment, grins, and happily responds, “Two!”

“Yes,” I say, thankful. So very, very thankful. “Aren’t you lucky?”

Grapes Toy Car Purple Flowers

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